


Golly, look at that America.

by herolunchboxes



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: America, Fashion AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-19 07:52:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herolunchboxes/pseuds/herolunchboxes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fashion AU for thorgore. </p><p>“Tony, will you be my America?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golly, look at that America.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own the hubbies, man.

As excited as Steve was for his new job, his serious attitude forced him to push all giddiness down so he could focus. He needed to focus, especially when it came to his passion for fashion. 

Yes, Steve Rogers finally accomplished his goal of becoming a fashion designer and working for his favorite company, America. Even though it was only his second day here (which consisted of him drawing up designs and watching the others work), his co-workers had already nick-named him “Captain America”. His seriousness and love for fashion was admirable, after all.

Right now, however, said Captain was fretting around a mannequin with needles held carefully between his lips.  
“Wow, I would have never taken you for a fashion kind of guy!” An unfamiliar voice shook his focus, causing him to look up. A man, judging from the voice, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight in front of him.  
“G-golly…” Steve muttered, staring with wide blue eyes at the man in front of him. He had dark, naturally mussed hair, a stylish beard and a mischievous grin. His eyes were dark blue (he saw this when the brown-haired man lowered his sunglasses), but Oh. His fashion.

His suit was lovely; formal and expensive but free and open at the same time. The man was small in stature, but he sure rocked the suit and owned the runway. The jacket and dress-pants were dark blue—not navy dark, and his vest was just a shade lighter. His dress shirt was nice, old-fashioned white, but his tie. Holy sardines; his tie. A dark blue tie with small-adorable- American flags decorating every centimeter.

Steve has found his America.

“Oh! H-Hello, my name is Cap-Steve Rogers, how may I help you?” The man seemed to be taken by surprised at the introduction, but relieved Steve with a bright smile.

“Just interested in what you were doing, that’s all. You were totally in the zone there, hotshot! My name’s Tony Stark, by the way.”  
Steve couldn’t take his eyes away from Tony’s… Tony’s everything.

He couldn’t stop himself. 

 

“Tony, will you be my America?”


End file.
